Occasional musings on a variety of things.

From De Vaults: Selfstalk Blogtrawl No. 2

The earliest example of this sonnet I could find comes from January 2008. Given, however, the reference to the Swedish Rounding System, it must have been composed sometime prior to 31 October 2006. It has all the elements needed for a great poem: Supermarkets, dairy products and loyalty cards. Enjoy!

Dairy disturbing…

O worthy Temple! Vast, unbounded Choice!
Sweet Sanctuary, O Haven thrice divine!
No Man abideth who, in earnest Voice,
Denies the wondrous Bounty which is Thine.
No Artefact exists that Thou know’st not,
Nor yet can Man such Articles create.
How might we meet expound this joyous Lot,
Or Thy Abundance, or Selection great?
And as within Thy boundless Sight we kneel
And wholesome lactic Prizes wrought in Fame,
By Feta’s holy Goats, pray, let us steal
All these, by Gouda’s Grace, in Cheese’s Name!
“All Buyers indigent could ne’er have missed ’em:
The OneCard and the Swedish rounding System!”

Feta: it is food that comes out of a goat’s tits

Note the play of caesura and enjambment, the pleasing turn of pace and tone between octave and sestet. Yeah, so it’s a bit shit. But, in all fairness, it couldn’t really have ended up any worse than the source material with which I had to work, viz. this shameless piece of purple prose from fellow State Highwayman, Ryan Sproull:

Aaaaanyway, as a bonus, I thought I would include this brief piece penned on 24 May 2006, possibly while drunk. It is one of, presumably, at least 66 I composed in the Spanish sextilla form. This particular sextilla is, again, one of at least several I composed on the matter of sex in my former life as an erotic bard by the name of Sextilla the Hun. (Warning: It does get a little blue in parts.)

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6 Comments →From De Vaults: Selfstalk Blogtrawl No. 2

Mmm I was inspired by your words to grab myself a cracker with cheese, unfortuantly we only had the big block yellow stuff on which you save $1.95 with a onecard, which although perhaps if cash was used and depending on other items costs within the same shopping trip, more savings may occur due to rounding… but anyhow as I ate my cracker with big block yellow cheese I got thinking of good cheese, such as blue vein smegma, cumd'in chedder and oh you know the good stuff, this lead me to think of sex. Great Minds huh buddy as I see your cheesy poetry let you to recall a blue verse of your own… anyhow Im wasting the chalk so to speak I wanted to share an old verse I recalled. The verse is from the yearly autum mating rituals of the Denmarkians and still practiced by the cheese husslers of Zealand, for its performance the men rub self-made cheese on their genitals which they waggle whilst bellowing the following verse at their desired mate/s

Hey girls, its time. Ready? Lets do it: mobile; hairstyle; lingerie; PDA; black dress; necklas; camera; push-up bra; braclet; jacket; shot glass; backstage pass; headband; sun tan; mini skirt; boyfriend's shirt; music; lipstick; scoop-neck; body check, time for fun, sexy one! Its time to make up and get busy. Wake up! Its time to make up, get down and get busy. Make up with thin lizzy! Thin lizzy! Ah Ha thin lizzy! Its time to make up.

Forgive my translation I realise Im no word wizard like you but I really did enjoy my cracker with cheese or cheese cracker if you like and so felt like sharing a little of that joy back with its instigator.

Ah, yes. It reminds me of that ancient Catalonian Christmas carol where all the users of the village's telephonic devices are encouraged to revel at the great celebration, shouting all the way, "Oh, I'm hungry! Two-score! Two-score! Two-score!" Which was the number of pies each of them felt like eating after a hard day of calling up all the other pie-eaters. "Oh, I'm hungry! [I could eat] Two-score [pies]! [I could eat] Two-score [pies]! [I could eat] Two-score [pies]!"

Thus was born Boxing Day, the day on which all the children who have telephones don boxing gloves and pummel each other in frenzied violence induced by the hypnotic thrum of advertising jingles which only the fiery Iberian commercialism of a Catalonian Christmas carol could have inspired.

So it was a short story with line breaks. Well done. I think you'll find there's more to writing poetry than arbitrarily deciding to hit "enter" every few syllables. And it's "Your defect, we correct."